Honk Honk (The sound of my own horn)

While in St. Louis last month, I decided to take advantage of the proximity of good shopping location. I didn't know what I was looking for specifically, but I knew that I would know it when I found it.

I am not ashamed to say that I will take knock-offs, as long as they are well-made, but then I hardly doubt that Issac Mizrahi is a second rate designer. He just sells to the Target crowd what said crowd won't be fool enough to pay too much for. So, anyway, with my delicious Panera coffee in hand, I swung through his section. My eyes immediately fell on a knee-length, silk faille skirt (of course, I don't look like a twelve year-old boy in it like the model does). I paired it with a black, boat neck 3/4 sleeve tie neck sweater, black fish-nets, black square toed heels (I had wanted these, but alas, all the nines were gone), some sparkly drop earrings, a simple silver bangle to accompany my right hand ring (last year's birthday gift from R), and I was set for a few seasonal events. Imagine my vain delight at seeing my skirt and sweater picks in this month's Lucky.

Countless times I have been standing in a store piecing something together and some poor soul walks out of a dressing room, looking confused and uncomfortable. Seeing that the "attendant" is getting the latest dish on her co-worker, I rush to aid the abandoned woman . After a quick size-up (literally), I grab several selections off the racks, gently push her back into the hovel and hand over the hangers. Not five minutes later, she emerges, checks her backside in the three-way mirror, and profusely thanks me. Once while in the Harold's at the plaza of Kansas City with Kris, I even quietly suggested a more supportive undergarment to the delight of a woman and her husband, to whom she loudly told my decent proposal while in the company of several patrons. Kris quickly made her purchase and we left. No decorum, that woman.

Last week, I convinced R that I had simply nothing that would do for his company Christmas party. I think he was fully aware of my tiny exaggeration, but he took pleasure in accommodating my desire for a little something new anyway. Besides, after two years of overdressing (it is a corporate party in UT, how was I to know that "semi-formal" ment a good pair of jeans and one's cleanest boots?) I had thought of something, but my city is so lacking in anything decent for anyone over the age of 20, so after an hour of fruitless searching, I descended onto a store that I had once been into and reserved great hopes of it becoming something nicely obliging my clothing tastes. My mother may not have taught me many practical things, such as making a roast or sewing on a button, but she did teach me how to dress: lot's of classic, good accessories, a splash of haute couture and you'll always look fabulous. So, this year, I was rejecting the skirt in favor of pants. As the song "Almost Blue" slipped softly out of the speakers, I walked along feeling all the racks of fabrics. My eyes rested on a pair of bubblegum pink thin-wale corduroys (like these, but with three buttons to the side of the zipper). I took one of only three sizes offered into the bathroom (they were remodeling) and came out to do the three-way check. Perfect. While changing, and pending the fit, I mentally arranged a union of a pink ribbon belt, two inch black heels, a white polyester button down shirt, and a black velveteen jacket similar to this one. When I explained the forth coming masterpiece to the scatterbrained woman standing behind the counter, she tilted her head to one side, sized me up, and then asked if I would like to go to market with her in Los Angeles sometimes. My exact thoughts: Tempting, but....no. Though I cannot deny that it sounds like a great deal of fun, I have never met you before in my life, woman. Besides, from the looks of the store, you are better than you give yourself credit for. My actual words: "Wow- that would be a lot of fun, but ummm, I, need to...hurry home to get ready for my evening out. But thank you, really. "

Sigh....my opportunity had to come in the form of "absolutely not" didn't it?